Why You Should Not Drink To Solve Your Problems
by BlackGeneralNocturna
Summary: Lysandre struggles to babysit some baby starter Pokemon that Professor Sycamore asks him to look after and decides to use wine as a coping device. Professor Sycamore has no idea how to react to his drunk best friend thinking he's a Pokemon. Just some dumb cracky Perfectworldshipping because Lysandre for all we know can't handle his alcohol.


Lysandre sighed to himself as he looked at the baby Pokemon staring at him curiously. The new starters Professor Sycamore had bred must have mistaken him for a Pyroar like most young Pokemon seemed to do. Never mind that his own Pyroar was by his side and clearly furry standing on four legs instead of two. Maybe it was because of the fur on his expensive new coat, which was an exact replica of his usual one that his friend's Garchomp had eaten.

Said friend was crouched down stuffing the food bowls with berries, chuckling as he noticed the starter babies gazing at Lysandre. "I think they like you Lys."

"I'm not so sure about that Augustine," he murmured as he took a step forward and the young Froakie spat bubbles at him. The professor laughed and picked up the little frog, which croaked happily. Fennekin and Chespin toddled over nuzzling his leg and Lysandre couldn't help but smile, though he was secretly relieved it had been Froakie who blasted him instead of Fennekin as his new coat was not flameproof. The tailor had ran out of flame retardant material unfortunately.

"They're just babies, mon ami." Augustine gave an amused smile. "Would you happen to be afraid, Lysandre?"

He looked away, seeing his Pyroar sniggering. Traitor. "Of course not, don't be daft."

"Well then…" Augustine leaned in… And shoved the Froakie into his arms. "I hope you are still up to babysitting our little friends whilst I work on my report." He spun on his heel and Lysandre stared after him as he made his way towards the stairs out of the basement before spluttering.

"W-Wait, why can't you just keep them in their pokeballs?"

"They will be starters to some young trainers one day, they need to learn to trust humans, non?" Professor Sycamore winked. "Remember, I'll treat you tomorrow evening if you survive. Good luck!" Lysandre shouted several rude words in Kalosian as he vanished through the door. As soon as the door clicked, Fennekin latched onto the hem of his trousers and Froakie showered him with bubbles.

He was going to hate his life by the end of the evening.

* * *

Lysandre and his Pyroar had been abandoned to look after the trio from Hell and the former Flare boss was already wishing for the sweet release of death he had been denied back when he had lived through boulders crushing him. It started with Chespin using vine whips on the lights. Thankfully grass types were resistant to electricity and Froakie was nowhere near the… Ahem… Shocking explosion. So he had swiftly replaced the lightbulb but electrocuted himself in the process.

Then Fennekin had decided to chew on his poor Pyroar's tail and the lion Pokemon had knocked over several boxes of empty pokeballs in the panic to shake the tiny fox off. And of course Lysandre had tripped on one of these balls whilst trying to save his big cat from the baby Fennekin.

Looking at the untouched food he wondered if they'd leave him alone long enough to rest his now aching body and looked at the Fennekin chomping onto his now ruined trousers. "Come on, time to eat." The fire Pokemon stared up at him tilting its head and he sighed carefully picking it up. His poor 180,000 pokedollar trousers. Sure he was rich so it wasn't too much of a big deal but considering trainers kept challenging him hoping to get some of his fortune (that amazingly hadn't been confiscated for his crimes)… After all, there was no such thing as a bank in the Pokemon world, other than the Pokemon Bank to store, well, Pokemon.

Setting each of the starters at their respective bowls he watched them eye the food then start chowing down. Finally he could relax.

Then Chespin took one of Froakie's berries. And all hell broke loose.

* * *

He wasn't dealing with this anymore. Not sober at least, he thought as he eyed the miraculously in touch crates of wine and vodka.

* * *

After two hours Augustine Sycamore had finally finished his report on Mega Diancie. Thankfully Serena had obtained a Diancie she had allowed him to observe, though sadly the Diancie had crushed on him the second it was sent out. And Lysandre had just stood back and laughed as he tried to awkwardly avoid the mythical Pokemon clinging to him whilst he tried to measure it and observe its power. Thankfully as a genderless being Diancie could not use Attract, or Serena could have possibly gotten even more blackmail of him.

Lysandre had teased him about not being able to put up with a fairy so he had kindly asked him to look after the baby starters. The perfect revenge, as Augustine knew first-hand what hell raising baby Pokemon could be.

It was probably about time to save Lysandre actually.

As he opened the door to the basement the smell of alcohol assaulted him and his stomach sank. Arceus no. Not drunk Pokemon, please no.

Professor Sycamore was not sure whether to be alarmed or relieved when he saw the baby starters behaving themselves and gawking at Lysandre, who was clearly drunk and making Eevee noises. What the actual-

"L-Lysandre?" Upon hearing him the obviously plastered former team boss (who was disturbingly crawling around on all fours) turned to him and 'cried' happily.

"Eeva! Augu- Auga- Syca! Are you done with your work thingy?"

Professor Sycamore stared completely dumbfound as his best friend stumbled over to him, still crawling and still making Eevee sounds. "Lys, how much did you drink?!"

Lysandre stared blankly at him then thought. "Two and three quarters of a bottle?"

Augustine brought his hand to his face. "Why?"

"Babies are stressful. Please never get preg-prega-pregnant, I can't handle any more babysitting!" Lysandre clung to his leg and the professor gave an awkward laugh trying to carefully shake him off as the baby starters and Pyroar stared.

"I'd need to have a uterus for that Lys, now get off."

The drunk man reluctantly released him getting to his feet then started making Sylveon noises.

"What are you doing?"

"I evolved."

Augustine shook his head mumbling. "You… Evolved. How?"

Lysandre probably knew deep inside he'd regret everything in the morning when he was sobered up, but didn't care as he suddenly hugged him nearly making them both topple over. "Because I loovveeeee you of course~"

Suddenly flustered Augustine stared at him then coughed into his fist avoiding his eyes. "You need a fairy type move too though."

"But I am a fairy~" Pyroar was now howling with laughter and Sycamore would have done the same if the situation wasn't so bloody awkward. His best friend now thought he was a fairy Pokemon. Why? Was this karma for him sentencing him to this horrible fate in the first place? "Oh I think I learnt a new move…"

"Please don't tell me it's Spit Up," Augustine grumbled awkwardly and the redhead shook his head way more times than surely necessary.

"Nope~ It'sa… It's called Sweet Kiss…" Then Lysandre kissed him and the professor turned 50 shades of red. The former team boss gave a stupid smile then promptly passed out forcing him to hold onto him to stop them falling.

The baby Pokemon stared at the strange man puzzled as Augustine just sighed patting his back. "Sylveon can't learn Sweet Kiss, mon cher… Better get him to bed, come with me," he murmured gesturing for the Pokemon to follow and they all left the basement.

And Lysandre was woken up the next morning with bubbles to the face and a hangover from Hell as well as the sinking feeling he did something ridiculously stupid like pretending to be a pink ribbon cat.


End file.
